In a vast field of gray, dotted with multicolored orbs like stars oring the sky, eight figures stood out. If oo try and describe them, even the most eloquent of men would be left speechless, for they were above any shapes, forms, or cepts. Rather, they could be described as the Truth. Eight separate Truths. Each stood in sharp trast to the other, as various worlds flowed before them, as if being in their presence was the utmost height that could be reached.

  “Oh.”

  In this pce where Time is worthless and Space is meaningless, where Fate is unbound ainy is but a ed mistress. At the core of existe the in of all that exists, where worlds are born like stars and die like embers. A surprised sound rang for those able to hear it.

  “How many eons has it been since a mortal soul reached the Nexus…?”

  Close to the fragment of a listless orb, to what was once a great and thriving world, a single, insignifit speck of dust floated, carried by the gray currents of Chaos.

  “A survivor from a dying world, what a surprise! It would be such a waste to let it return to nothingness.”

  As the small soul drifted without aim, carried only by a lingering sciousness, without name nor memories, the surrounding chaos began to engulf it. As if unraveling threads, the soul began to disperse, yet its attention was not on itself, but on the infinity around it.

  “Let’s send it to an Apex World then. Who knows, it could end up taking that step.”

  With no boundary in sight, the whole picture was in front of it. It could feel the Chaos taking it in, dismantling what it once was with pain unending, but as the st bit of its soul remained, as the myriad worlds drifted around it, how could it take its sight from the Eight?

  Harrowi beautiful, calmierrifying, within sight yet boundless.

  As the st strand of its soul was about to return to nothingness, it heard a sound that filled its very existence before losing sciousness.

  “Grow well, little seed.”

  —---

  As the wind whispered through the forest, leaves rustled and fell, gathering in swirls of crimson and gold. They formed a natural path leading to a quaint vilge, where the st of burning wood mixed with the crisp autumn air.

  eys exhaled soft plumes of smoke, carrying warmth to the wooden homes led within the valley.

  Inside one sue, a faint melody drifted through the air. A young woman sat by the window, her delicate firag gentle circles over her belly as she hummed a soothing tune.

  Her hair cascaded in waves of obsidian, framing a face of ethereal beauty. Amethyst eyes, bright yet tinged with worry, softened as she looked down at her swollen belly. A small smile tugged at her lips, and her humming took on a cheerful lilt.

  The door creaked open.

  A tall figure stepped inside, his presence carrying the chill of the evening air. But the moment his eyes nded ohe frost in his gaze melted into something warm.

  He crossed the room in quiet steps, kneeling before her with practiced ease. His rge hands, rough from years of battle, rested gently on her belly.

  “My little wife," he murmured, his voice stroender, "are you certain there are no issues? It’s already been twelve months…”

  Her ughter bubbled up like spring water, filling the space with lightness.

  “Worry less, my dear,” she teased, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s rare, but some pregnancies do take longer. It usually means the child has extraordinary talent in cultivation. So, if anything, you should be excited—yoing to have a prodigy for a son.”

  His smile grew, but a hint of skepticism danced in his grey eyes as he leaned in.

  “Oh? And how are you so sure it’s a boy?” he mused, raising a brow. “You didn’t peek, did you? You know using spiritual sense on the baby could affect the f soul.”

  She scoffed, flig his forehead lightly.

  “With how lively he is? After all the kicks he’s given me, I don’t o use my spiritual seo know."

  He chuckled, eyes glinting with pyful challenge.

  “Want to bet on it?”

  Her grin widened. “Oh? Are you looking to lose?”

  “Don’t be so sure,” he shot back, smirking. “Alright, let’s make it iing—if you’re right, you name him. If I’m right, I name her. Deal?”

  She preteo think for a moment, then ughed, stretg out her hand.

  “Deal.”

  Their palms met in a soft cp, sealing the bet with a shared smile.

  —----

  At the same time, within the warmth of his mother’s womb, a small being finally began to settle. His faint sciousness, once adrift in the void, slowly stirred.

  A flicker of awareness.

  For the first time, he felt—the gentle pulse of life surrounding him, the rhythmic beat of a dista, the quiet murmur of voices just beyond his reach.

  Yet, though he was alive, something li the edge of his mind. A question. A memory. A sense of loss.

  Who was he? What was he before this?

  The answers remained elusive, swallowed by the fog of his newborn mind. Only faint echoes remained—curiosity, despair, acceptance, shock, joy. A storm of emotions with no clear in.

  And then—a vision.

  It struck him like a brand upon his soul, an unfettable se seared into his very existence.

  An expanse beyond imagination. Infinite worlds suspended in the void. And at the heart of it all— Unfathomable Beings, presiding over creation itself.

  Paied in his fragile mind.

  A crushing, suffog pressure bore down on his thoughts, too vast, too overwhelming for his tender sciouso bear. His small body trembled within the womb, his soul barely holding firm, the only thing allowing him to endure was the nurturing warmth of his mother—a presehat shielded him, though even she could not fully dispel the agony.

  And so, as the pain became unbearable, darkness cimed him once more.

  Sleep. Wake. See. Suffer. Sleep again.

  Each time he awoke, the image returned. Each time, the pain followed.

  At first, the vision was blurry, like gazing through a fogged mirror. But with each awakening, the details sharpened, growing clearer, more distinct, more real.

  And the pain—oh, the pain—remained just as merciless.

  Yet, he could not stop himself from looking. It was the only thing that existed within his mind, the only thing that tethered him to whatever he had once been.

  So he endured. Again. And again. And again.

  Until, at st, the day came when he saw it all.

  The vision formed one final time.

  But this time, there was no pain.

  His world shuddered. A strange, fn tremor rippled through his surroundings, unlike anything he had ever felt before.

  Something was ging.

  The warmth that had always cradled him began to shift, its f embrace growing tight, restrictive, unyielding.

  The pressure around him increased, squeezing his small body, f him forward. He tried to resist, but it was futile—his world was colpsing, pushing him out, f him into the unknown.

  The warmth faded. The gentle pulse of safety vanished.

  And then—cold.

  For the first time, air rushed into his lungs, sharp and uing. He gasped, his tiny body trembling as the sudden exposure overwhelmed his senses.

  A cry tore from his throat—raw, instinctive, the first sound he had ever made.

  And in that moment, he was no longer just a soul driftiween worlds.

  He was alive.